a blank canvas with dull edges unsharpened yet truly sharp
it was like dusty guitars with no strings to play
or an empty crystal vase
her pearls were lost at the bottom of a drawer never to be worn
the creme brulee would remain untorched
each one a perfect thread to a beautiful quilt never made
.....all because when idea's orb was within her grasp
she did not take the time to get a pencil
and simply write it down.
Magpie Tales
